Clout: A Hero To No-One
by Author Name Here
Summary: Meet Trevin - a normal, powerless man who doesn't have millions of dollars or a magic ring. He's decided he wants to step up into the world of costumed heroes, villains, vigilantes and rogues. How far can one normal man make it in a world with aliens, interdimensional beings and mutants? Let's find out. Issue 2: A gun for hire hunts down Trevin and his new acquisition from The Owl.
1. Issue 1: Not ANOTHER Origin Story!

**Issue 1: Oh God, Not Another Origin Story!**

 _Oakland, California_

It was a warm, summer night in East Oakland. The usual cacophony of barking dogs, car alarms and the occasional burst of laughter from somewhere down in the streets filled the air as it usually did. Nothing was out of place, nothing monumental was going on. Oakland was a place of sporadic gang violence, the occasional shooting, but was free of the bigger threats that the world was dealing with. Rumors of alien life, magic artifacts and even wilder things not even believable enough to bring up here happening all over the globe. The world has been facing these challenges the past few years, but they've never reached the California Bay Area. That's exactly the way Trevin wanted to keep it.

Trevin, born Trevelyan Volkova, aged 22, grew up on the streets of Oakland being a white kid. This made him grow up quick and forced him to learn a lot of ins and outs when it came to keeping your head low, finding the shortest route to a destination and, usually, how to take a punch. Being ill-tempered and standoffish, Trevin didn't make himself too many friends on the streets, but he did earn himself a decent amount of respect. This led to him acquiring a number of skills from his "colleagues", and found himself taking matters into his own hands most of the time. He was okay with stealing from people he thought deserved it for his own gain, and sometimes would thwart the occasional stickup or mugging he witnessed.

What Trevin found out next was he was good at it. _Really_ good at it. So good that he started hitting higher quality targets and started procuring some pretty interesting stuff. By 2001, he found himself in possession of a sleek bulletproof bodysuit, _S.H.I.E.L.D._ issue wrist-launcher grappling hooks, and a wide array of little gadgets that would make any billionaire playboy vigilante blush.

Now, Trevin was by no means a "go-getter" when it came to anything in life. The furthest he's advanced in a career was as an assistant manager position at some mid-range clothing outlet at the mall. Suddenly, however, he felt excited about something. With all of these tools at his disposal (and a strict workout regime), he envisioned himself actually going out and fighting crime. This was not fueled by some moral drive, but perhaps just the ability to feel above somebody else. To elevate himself in the food chain.

His first "tour" was a three-month long campaign against a number of drug dealers in Oakland, using various resources like trusted sources on the street and a hacked backdoor access to the Alameda County Sheriff's Department network. Donning his bulletproof bodysuit and a clunky, modified dark blue motorcycle helmet he fashioned into a disguise, he waged war against these criminals… just because. He didn't particularly feel like he saved the day, or saved some kids life from becoming a crackhead. Maybe it was for his frustrations growing up in the area he did, maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was just him wanting to feel like he was good at something…. And he finally was.

Anyway, enough of _that._ Let's get back to the present.

Trevin soaked in his Epsom salt bath, _End of the Road_ by Boyz II Men playing out of his CD player, which was safely stored on the other side of the bathroom, away from the tub. A campfire scented candle crackled, lighting the otherwise darkened room. He'd gotten his training, his intel research, and just about any other prep work for the night ahead done with a few hours to spare. He decides completely relaxing the mind and body was the best route he could take before he went on his first official "big" mission.

Word on the street is somebody by the name of "The Owl" hit an armored vehicle a couple nights ago, and now they're trying to find someone with heavy duty hacking skills. That translates to 'electronic lock', which also means _expensive._ With some cross-referencing and ingenuity, Trevin surmised that whatever was stolen was en route to OsCorp in New York. It took no time at all to pinpoint where this guy was holed up. Based on his research, The Owl was a man named Leland Owlsley - a fact alone that made Trevin laugh out loud - and is known for being a low-level wannabe crime lord on the East Coast. Arrested multiple times, it's unclear how he escaped custody and why he was in Oakland. Either way, this sounded like the first super that Trevin was going to tango with.. And he was ready. He'd been waiting for this.

You see, the world was a brand new place to Trevin as of this past year. The existence of so-called superheroes, supervillains, even mutants, was already an accepted fact and had been since the 50's. People with superhuman abilities using their gifts to pillage for their own personal gain, or help those who can't help themselves was a commonplace thing in the world he grew up in. However, the turning point for Trevin happened only a few months ago. On live television, Stark Industries CEO Tony Stark revealed himself to be Iron Man. Trevin watched the clip online probably 40 times. Tony Stark was a guy who literally had it all, and yet he decided to start putting his life on the line. It struck some sort of cord in Trevin - a realization that you didn't need to have a mutated DNA helix to become a vigilante. To rise up from the bottom. Not only that, but as far as he knew, Tony Stark was a normal human man just like himself. Granted, Trevin wasn't a billionaire either, but what he lacked in budget he made up for in confidence and grit.

After getting out of the bath, drying off and suiting up, Trevin packed on his gear; Grappling hook launcher, smoke bombs, flashbangs, teargas, homemade gas mask equipped with thermo-goggles retractable stun baton. He felt like a one-man SWAT team. He paused and stared at himself in the mirror and imagined that caption under his portrait. He walked over to his desk and wrote "one man SWAT team" on a piece of paper, and left the apartment.

He was definitely used to the looks he got walking down the street at night, dressed like some sort of BDSM warrior. The occasional tough guy would step up and try and rob him, but they were quickly downed with his stun-baton or some admittedly flashy hand-to-hand moves. After a while, most people on the street knew to just leave the guy alone.

He finally reached his destination. It was a two-story crack house with the windows were boarded up and the boards were covered in graffiti. A broken TV, lots of trash bags and kids bikes littered the front area. The Owl had reportedly been sending people here to unlock this cache and willing to pay a pretty penny for it. He scouted the building from far down the street. Two men were hanging out on the porch. _Strapped, for sure,_ He thought as he decided to go in through the back.

As best as he could tell, there were at least 3 people upstairs which is where he assumed the package was.

The plan was simple: throw enough tear gas to cover both floors, enter through a window on the second floor with the thermo-goggles and gas mask on, knock out anyone still standing, secure the package and get out. Shouldn't take more than 60 seconds.

He secured his mask over his face and threw one grenade followed by another through the first-floor window. Then the same for the second floor. Shouting erupted from inside. Trevin shot his grappling hook through the now-broken second story window. There were three figures in the room. One of them had a significantly higher temperature signature seen through the goggles. He was holding a large rectangular case. Feeling for the door and opened it as Trevin readied his stun baton, he was out of the room as the other two men were incapacitated with no trouble by Trevin, who quickly followed in pursuit.

As he rounded the corner, he was greeted with a gunshot. The bullet whizzed past him and hit the hallway wall. "Motherfucker!" Trevin shouted. He thought quickly and grabbed a small container on his belt and emptied it on the stairwell to his right. A handful of caltrops peppered the stairs. Trevin smirked and waited for the figure to run down the stairs and tumble down to their defeat.

His smirk faded as the man threw the package through the second story window and leaped out. Trevin rushed after him and jumpedTrevin bolted after him and sprung through the window. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he descended toward the ground and saw his pursuee - not running on the ground, but gliding 10 feet above the ground, away from the house. Oh, what the hell. Trevin thought to himself as he landed hard on his feet and rolled forward. The case was sitting on the ground, and the two men guarding the front door were already making their way towards it and Trevin. He ducked an incoming punch and countered with a double leg takedown. One swift fist to the attackers face left him out cold. The second man pulled out a gun and pointed it at Trevin.

"The fuck you gon' do now, little bitch?"

Trevin opened his palms and slowly raised his warms, his hands pointing toward the armed thug. "Easy there big guy…" when his arms were at a 60-degree angle, he flicked his right wrist and the grappling hook shot out and smashed the man in the face. The bullet his Trevin in the shoulder and he stumbled back for a second but capitalized on the moment and was on the man, pummeling him with his fists until he was knocked out. The bullet impact hurt like hell, and the item he'd been after was right before him on the ground, but Trevin decided to go after the flying man. He vaulted himself over the fence and ran after the figure who was about 50 feet ahead of him, still gliding just above the ground down the street. In a full sprint, Trevin reached him in no time at all.

As soon as he realized he was about to be caught, he landed on the asphalt and spun around to face Trevin. This was the first time he got a good look at who he was after. The man looked to be in his 30s, a big scruffy beard and his hair pointing two swept points on either side of his head.

"Norman sent you! Go on, lapdog.. get lost!" He made a shooing motion with his hand. Trevin had no idea who 'Norman' in that particular moment, was but didn't share this fact. He went for his stun-baton and was in the middle of saying "Let's go, freak" before Leland charged him and tackled him to the ground. Leland smashed Trevin in the mask repeatedly with his fists.

"What makes you think you can take on The Owl?" He grabbed Trevin by the mask and lifted him up with surprising strength. Again, Trevin was trying to say "Who the fuck is The Owl, anyway?" before the villain had him lifted up over his head and tossed him back-first into the side of a broken down sedan on the side of the street. "Don't mess with the big guys, punk. You're not cut out for this."

The criminal took off back up the street toward the house he came from. Trevin - knowing it was his last charge, shot his grappling hook one more time, past The Owl - onto an iron-barred fence across the street. He propelled himself off the ground at a diagonal angle toward The Owl. Trevin tried to nab him as he was pulled forward, but missed and got an arm full of nothing. He slammed into the fence just as hard as he hit the car. He grunted as he crashed against the dirty sidewalk. Feeling like he'd been hit by a car, which he _sort of_ was, he forced himself to his feet and ran as fast as he could after The Owl. It wasn't very fast.

The last trick up his sleeve was a single-use dart gun loaded with a powerful sedative. It only had one shot, and he'd never fired it before. As Leland Owlsley ran back down the Oakland street, Trevin stopped, took a breath and aimed carefully. A soft _-fip-_ came from the gun as the dart shot forward. It hit it's target as The Owl stopped and spun around. He pulled the dart out, looked at it, then back at Trevin, and started stumbling forward, his consciousness clearly fading with each wobbling step. He collapsed on the street after 6 steps forward. Trevin walked over and picked Leland up and slung him over his shoulders. His back strained, but he powered through... In no time, he was back to the house which was now void of any sort of threat. The gas had seeped outside and nobody still awake decided to stick around. The case had remained in its landing spot outside the window.

Before long, Leland was tied to a dining chair by his ankles and wrists with a couple of extension cords. Trevin called the police. "911 what's your emergency?"

"Yeah, I'm here at 214 Paseo Padre street. I have someone who's probably on the F.B.I.'s most wanted list…" he stopped for a beat and looked back to The Owl, "and most likely some sort of registered sex offender, in custody here. Leland Owlsley, look him up. You're welcome." Trevin left the phone dangling off the receiver and walked outside, retrieved what he came for, and fled the scene.

Once he was back in his apartment, he took off his mask and removed his gear and inspected the case. An _OsCorp_ logo was imprinted in the center of the top of the case. A touchscreen electronic lock was located on its side, underneath a panel. Trevin inspected it and began to mess with it. He took it over to his laptop, removed the screen interface, and started going to work. After a lot of researching, looking for tools around his messy apartment and a little soldering, Trevin had the case hooked up to his laptop. He wasn't a computer super-genius, for sure, but he could get things done most couldn't...it just took a while. After three hours of trial and error and some swearing, the case popped its lock. He removed it from his desk and took it over to the dining table which was lit by a single hanging light bulb. His back _killed,_ and he realized just at that moment the taste of blood was in his mouth. He looked over at a copy of _Newsweek_ on the dining table with the now infamous press conference photo of Tony Stark. "Did you get your ass kicked this bad when you first started?" He asked the photograph.

He slowly opened the cover of the case and stared at its contents. It took a while to register what he was even looking at. At first glance, it looked like a big folded up piece of rubber. He pulled it out and got a better look at exactly what was in his hands. It looked like a bodysuit. It weighed about as much as a bedsheet, and was sleek and black, save for some grey-white markings on either side that looked like claw marks from a big dinosaur. It was full-body; arms, hands, legs and feet. It was topped off with a mask that looked to cover the entire head. It was all black save for two white markings where either eye was located, similar to a killer whale. The most noticeable feature, however, was what appeared to be a ventilation mask covering the mouth area. Two swept points jutted out from either side of it, running past the cheek and ending just near the ears. He laid the entire suit out on the table.

 _It reminds me of that spider guy,_ he thought to himself. He turned it over and realized there was no opening. No zipper, no stitching - hell, no velcro. _How the hell are you supposed to get into this thing? ARE you supposed to get into it?_ Trevin decided he didn't want to ruin whatever it was by prodding at it mindlessly. He locked it back up in its case. Tomorrow he'd reach out to an old friend and see if they can figure out what he got his hands on. For tonight, though, he'd have to rest up… and find a chiropractor.

 _ **Next Issue: Trevin seeks info about his new possession, and has a run in with someone not unlike himself in… A Fighting Chance!**_

 _Author's note: If you're wondering what the hell you just read - I want to shed some light on my hopes here. Trevin, our antagonistic protagonist, is about to uproot himself from his smalltime routes and go on an ever-evolving journey across the Marvel universe. There is no particular timeline or universe this will be following, but some major staple events will transpire, whether or not Trevin experiences it first hand or just sees it on the news. He's going to meet, fight, and get his ass kicked by all sorts of well (and not-so-well) known Marvel heroes and villains. Let's see how long he survives…_


	2. Issue 2: A Fighting Chance

_San Francisco, California_

Trevin popped a Vicodin and swallowed it dry as he gazed out at the cold gray waters of the San Francisco Bay. It had only been a day since his tussle with The Owl, and his back pain was not going away on its own.

Shortly after he got his hands on the mysterious black bodysuit, he contacted Danny Uchida, a long time friend of Trevin's that worked at Livermore Labs. They were set to meet around 11:30 a.m. at the end of Pier 39. Out of all the people Trevin knew, Danny was his best bet on finding out exactly what he'd gotten his hands on.

The OsCorp logo was crudely covered up with duct tape to not attract any attention, although Trevin was slightly worried he looked like a hitman. He had a dark blue hoodie on, and underneath that, he was armed to the teeth with his gear and armor.

His eyes wandered from the open water to Alcatraz Island, which was now shut off from the public. The former prison turned into a tourist attraction for nearly 60 years, but in 1994, the ferries full of tourists stopped going to the island. Rumors swirled that it was bought out by any number of corporation or mysterious figure for a myriad of reasons. Nobody knew for sure, however. It appeared to be unchanged from the outside, and nobody ever saw boats, helicopters, anything going to or coming from the island. As he began to imagine the things going on there, his thoughts were interrupted.

"You look terrible." Danny's familiar voice startled Trevin, making him flinch.

They clasped their hands in a firm handshake. "You should see the other guy." Trevin triumphantly stated, despite the obvious signs he got his ass kicked pretty bad.

"I _did_ see the other guy. A masked vigilante brought down the supervillain known as The Owl, the news said." Danny said with a little sarcasm sprinkled in his tone.

Trevin scoffed out loud. "SUPER villain! That guy was basically a homeless person. He could hardly even fly. He was hovering over the ground for like five seconds. Supervillain...no. Gliding vagrant is what I'd use to describe him."

Danny pointed at Trevins black eye. "Either way, looks like he got a cheap shot on you."

"A cheap shot or seven, yeah. Good to see you, Danny. How's Helena? Has she realized you bamboozled her into marrying you and ran off, yet?"

He held up his hand and pointed to his wedding band. "Still got her fooled."

"What about Emiko? How's she doing?"

Danny shrugged. "She went to go live with Mom in Chiba."

"Oh, damn. She's back in Japan?"

Danny nodded. "Sorry pal. She's going to have to somehow carry on with you continuing to not ask her out."

Trevin rolled his eyes. "As much as I love the small talk, I asked you here for a reason." He handed the case over to Danny. "Seems like a lot of people want their hands on it. Robbing OsCorp is a bold move. Especially for someone who's low on the totem pole like _The Owl."_ Danny said, sarcasm still standing. He pointed to the duct tape. "What's with this?"

"I don't want to attract attention. I can't walk around with…" Trevin lowered his voice after looking around, "I don't want to be suspicious. Stolen OsCorp case, I can't go walking around advertising that."

"So you decided the best way to be inconspicuous was to dress up like the unabomber?"

Trevin shot a glare towards Danny. "Did did you come to talk shit or see what's in the case?"

Danny nodded and set the case on a bench behind them. He opened it up, pulled out the suit and held it up. "What the hell _is_ that thing?" Trevin asked as Danny inspected it.

"Well… first, where did The Owl get this from? Some truck going to OsCorp, you said?"

Trevin nodded. "It was coming from some place called Clarke Futuristics, down in Los Angeles."

"Clarke? They deal with robotics." He took a closer look at the suit. "What would they be doing with this? … or with OsCorp for that matter?"

All Trevin could do was shrug. "I don't know who any of these people are, Danny. All I know is this thing is probably really valuable, and I want to sell it and be done with it."

"If you knew _exactly_ what it was, I bet you'd be able to sell it for a lot more…" Danny said with an upward inflection, trying to make the implied question sound more appealing.

"I mean, I didn't think you would know exactly what this was without taking it to your lab and doing... Whatever science things you do in your evil castle. You know, with your jars with eyeballs and brains floating in them. Tesla coils everywhere. I know what your lab looks like."

Danny folded the suit back up and put it in the case, adding, "Don't forget my hunchback sidekick."

"Oh, don't talk about your wife like that. Take the suit, take however long you need. I've got a bad feeling about that thing. The sooner it's out of my hands, the better."

A commotion broke out from the light crowd that had been near the waterfront. People started pointing out across the water. Trevin heard someone say "Iron Man", and his pulse increased. He and Danny shared a glance and then went to see what was happening.

High in the sky above the water, a figure was zooming through the air toward the pier, leaving contrails behind. "Coincidence?" Danny asked Trevin.

"I really, really doubt it. Whatever that suit is... if Tony Stark is after it then it must be a big deal."

The figure drew closer to the pier as Danny and Trevin slinked backward into the crowd. It started a slow descent from straight above everyone, warm air blasting downward toward the crowd. A circle opened up, making room for this person from the sky. He made landfall and Trevin got a good look at him. He was decked out in a green bodysuit and had a golden half helmet atop his head. He wore what looked like an equally golden jetpack on his back and had some gaudy wrist jewelry. Whoever this was, it wasn't Iron Man.

"Fear not, San Franciscans! I come in peace. I'm visiting your lovely city on this _dreary_ morning to retrieve a container stolen from a dear friend of mine. It's about this big," he gestured with his hands, " it's black… and I know it's here in this immediate area right now."

People took pictures as he spoke. Trevin motioned for Danny to follow him as he tried his best to hide the case close to his chest. As the costumed man turned away from them, they both made a break for it through the crowd while his back was turned.

A sharp _-wip-_ sound filled the air, and a beam of bright yellow light shot from behind them into the sky. "Don't move another step."

Trevin turned to see the man only just now turning around, his left arm raised up into the sky.

"I have eyes in the back of my head, so nobody try anything funny." He slowly walked towards Trevin.

As he was being approached, and the crowd started to clear a path between the two, Trevin did a mental checklist of what he brought with him.

 _Dart gun is at home. Two smoke bombs. No tear gas. One throwing knife. One short range EMP. No taser. Armor on, but won't protect me from whatever this guy just shot into the air._

 _EMP. My only bet,_ he deduced.

He leaned in and whispered something to Danny and then took a step forward. He reached behind his back and handed off a small pen shaped object to Danny, who slinked back into the crowd by the time the crowd had cleared an empty lane between Trevin and his costumed visitor.

"What you've got there, my friend, belongs to my employer. You must have balls of steel on you to rob Norman Osborn," The green and gold man that sort of looked like The Rocketeer was now standing a few feet away from Trevin.

"Well… if you want to get technical, I stole it from The Owl, who stole it from a truck," Trevin offered.

"Regardless, I've been hired to retrieve the very case you're clutching right there. Hand it over, and I'll be on my way. It's your lucky day, too. Cause if don't give me any trouble, you get to live."

Trevin sighed. "Look, man. I just beat down The Owl. I don't want to have to take you out too. I'm tired. Go tell _Norman_ you never found me and we can both be spared what happens next. "

"The Owl," he scoffed. "You beat _The Owl!_ You might as well brag about winning a race against F.D.R.! How dare you compare a street urchin to a professional like myself."

Trevin shrugged. "At least I've heard of him. I have no idea who you are, dude."

"Professional hitman, assassin, spy and thief. They call me Chance." The manner in which he said this sounded like a commercial.

"Chance? Like... Like from _Homeward Bound?"_

"Enough of this! Give me the case. I don't want to have to kill you, kid…I won't get paid for it." Chance stepped forward. Trevin held the case out slowly. He saw Danny move into position in his periphery. Once he saw Danny flick the pen on the ground, Trevin stepped forward.

 _God, please let those lasers or whatever be electronically powered._

"Alright, you had your… uh, chance." Trevin readied himself to charge, and then a cloud of smoke began to seep from the pen shaped object.

 _I grabbed the wrong fucking thing!_

Trevin reached and felt and grabbed something from his belt that was the same shape and size as the smoke bomb. _I must have put them in the wrong slots!_ Chance rocketed forward through the cloud of smoke without warning, tackling Trevin and grabbing him and the case. Trevin struggled to get out of his grip until they started ascending into the sky. With the excess weight, Chance's flight speed was much slower.

"This is your only shot, junior! Hand the case over or prepare for re-entry!" Chance shouted as they slowly rose above the ground.

Trevin clicked the EMP activator and gripped Chance by the throat. A low electronic _-vwump-_ emitted and Chance's jetpack shut off 20 feet above the ground. The pair went hurtling towards the pier below, Trevin still holding his death grip around Chances throat who was trying to force some words out. He spun Chance around between himself and the ground just before they crashed. It didn't help the impact that much as Trevin had the wind knocked out of him and was pretty sure he just dislocated a rib. The case went flying a few feet away.

Chance grabbed Trevin by the hair and punched him in the face a couple of times before flinging him backwards and standing up, albeit labordly.

"What did you do to my suit?!" He cried out, clicking his wrist bracer a couple of times with nothing happening.

Trevin climbed back to his feet and saw Chance trying to take his helmet off. The thick gold visor covered half his face. There was no way he could see out of that thing without some sort of video feed.

 _The EMP must have made whatever camera system he's got shut off… he's blind!_

Trevin delivered a swift kick to the chest of Chance, and then another. Chance raised his other arm and pointed it in Trevin's general direction. A small dart shot out and zoomed a few feet away from Trevin, hitting the wall of a building behind him.

"Tranq darts, huh? That seems pretty tame for an assassin." A hissing sound came from behind him. He turned around to see smoke steaming up from the ground where the dart landed. "Acid?!"

Chance shot another dart as an answer. He missed again. Trevin charged and delivered a knee right into Chances face. He was back on the ground, still blind. "You fucking tried to _murder_ me!" Chance clicked a button on his wrist bracer. His jetpack made a clicking sound but was not igniting. Trevin pulled out his throwing knife and sliced one of the tubes that stuck out of the jetpack. It started spraying fuel everywhere. "You're not going anywhere! Now _you_ have to deal with _me!"_ He returned the favor of punching Chance in the jaw numerous times until he saw him spit out blood.

 _It's been about a minute. That EMP is going to wear off any second now. I need to get out of here before this guy blasts a laser through me._

Chance was back on his feet in seconds and struggled to take his helmet off in the midst of the chaos. "You're dead!"

Trevin decided to count his losses. He flipped Chance off and ran for the case. He picked it up just as another dart went zipping by. A swelling electronic sound was heard from behind as he ran. He looked back to see Chance aiming his wrist blaster in his direction. Trevin dove behind a garbage can as he saw a beam of energy shoot past, barely missing him. The blaster got covered in the fuel, and within an instant, Chance was engulfed in flames. He ran around screaming while the few people who hadn't run off yet panicked, not knowing how to help besides shouting for help. Trevin watched in astonishment as he finally wound up falling over the railing and into the ocean.

"Well, that guy was a dick. I… I don't feel so good."

Trevin felt light headed. A warm trickle came from his nose. He tapped his lip and looked at his finger. Blood. As soon as he saw Danny coming back toward him, he took a knee and hunched over on the ground. Before he knew it, Danny had his arm around his shoulder and was quickly walking him off of the pier. "Cops are coming. We need to get out."

They hustled across the street where Danny's car was parked. The moment he sat down, Trevin passed out.

A white wall was the first thing he saw when Trevin opened his eyes. He shot up to a sitting position and winced. "Agh!" His entire body ached. He felt his ribs, and noticed that he'd been bandaged up. He looked around the room he was in, and saw a picture of Emiko, Danny's sister. _This must be her old room. I wonder if she'll ever come back to the U.S. Man, she sure was cute..._ Suddenly, all the memories of what had just transpired came rushing back. Falling from the sky. The suit. Chance.

 _That dude was on fire. Did he die?... did I kill somebody?_

He left the room and walked into a hallway he'd been in before. Pictures of the Uchida family lined the walls. Danny and Emiko with their parents wearing traditional Japanese garb. Black and white photos of ancestors. He stepped into the bathroom. It felt like he hadn't gone pee in five years. After he relieved himself, he washed his hands and face and took a look in the mirror. His short black hair was matted with dried blood. His face looked younger than he was, but he felt so much older. He rinsed his hair under the faucet until it felt clean. He sighed and made his way to the living room where Danny and his wife Helena were sitting.

"Hey, pal. Are you doing okay?" Danny got up and went over to Trevin, putting his hand on his shoulder. "What happened? Is that Chance guy dead?"

Danny ushered Trevin over to the couch and motioned for him to sit down next to Helena. She smiled at him. "Hi Trev, you're looking pretty good for someone that fell out of the sky." He put his arm around and gave a half-hug. "Hi, Helena. Good to see you again. I see you've somehow not gotten sick of Danny and his terrible sense of humor yet."

"Oh, he has his uses. I'll keep him around for now." She said with a smirk.

"He got away. From what I saw online, eyewitnesses said Chance got out of the water shortly after and was arrested. Two bad guys in two days. That's some record you got there."

"Yeah, I'm a regular superhero here. My power lies in choosing incompetent villains. Well, it's good to know that I'm not a murderer. That dude had some serious tech on him."

"Not as serious as what's in that case you've been carrying around. I did a little digging while you were taking a cat nap. It took a lot of digging but I found out exactly what that thing is. Clarke Futuristics got their hands on this technology sometime back in the 80's. They've been trying to perfect it for _years._ Things kept going wrong. This suit… it's made of nanomachines. Billions of them. You need a skilled hacker to get access to the full reports, I was only able to scratch the surface...and find some of these test videos. Come look."

Danny grabbed his laptop and sat down next to Trevin. He pulled open a folder with a few different video files. He pulled one up. It was black and white surveillance footage. It was a figure in a large room that had several objects places around it, such as concrete blocks and mannequins. The figure was wearing a suit very similar to the one Trevin stole, but had minor differences in details. It pointed its arm out toward a mannequin an a rush of light spewed forth like it shot a ball of plasma. The mannequin exploded into pieces. The figure proceeded to do this to the other objects in the room, except on it's second to last target, it aimed its arm just like the previous times and the figure exploded in a bright white flash. Body parts went flying around the room."

"Jesus, dude. Thanks for the warning, that was gruesome!"

"Sorry, that's my bad. This one isn't so graphic." Danny pulled up the next video. It was the same security camera point of view, but the room was set up differently. Instead of various objects, there was a brick wall. There was another figure in another slightly different suit. They walked up to the wall, and punched straight through it. They tore a large hole using only their fists. Behind the wall was a large safe, which they picked up with seemingly no problem and moved it out from behind the wall. After setting it down, the figure collapsed on the ground and the video cut out.

"You see, they've been trying to perfect these suits but there's always been some sort of damage to the wearer. Whether it's sapping up the body's energy, giving them heart attacks, overheating them, or just blowing them up... It looks like these trials have been killing people for years. I think, Trevin, the suit you got, is the first working model."

"That must be why it was on its way to OsCorp. They probably paid a shitload for a prototype."

Danny nodded. "That's what I'm thinking too. The little amount I could dig up referred to this suit as 'uphb24.x' and it looks like it's been marked safe. _If_ that's the one that was lined up in the report as being shipped out."

Trevin began to ponder the benefits of such a suit, granted it didn't make him melt or something like that. "Oh," Danny added, "Chance was able to find you because the case had a micro-transmitter in it. I found it and destroyed it before driving back here. As far as they know, the suit never left San Francisco."

Helena got up and left the room. "Have fun with this, boys. This is all out of my league."

Danny leaned in and whispered to Trevin. "I think, if you keep this thing - after making sure it's safe, you use it? You could be on par with Iron Man."

Trevin sighed. "I don't want to be the next Iron Man. I don't want to go solve world problems."

"Just something to consider. Either way, I think you should find someone to help you get into the Clarke Futuristics network and find out exactly what that suit can do."

"If I put my mind to it… I'm pretty sure I can do it myself. I'd need to get into their facility down in L.A. though."

"Whatever you end up doing… You need to take a break first, my friend. You've been banged up pretty bad the past couple of days. You _are_ just a man, after all."

Trevin laid down on the couch and meant to agree, but before he realized it, he was back asleep.

 _ **Next Issue: Trevin heads south to Clarke Futuristics with trouble in tow in… City of A-Holes!**_


End file.
